The Glade
by Silver Dragonfire
Summary: What exactly happens to Umbridge after the centaurs carry her off in Order of the Phoenix? Rated PG-13 just to be safe.


**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter is not mine, and you're barking mad if you think it is. I am not profiting from this piece in any way, unless you count me trying to improve my writing. So, please, don't sue. No copyright infringement is intended.   
  


* * *

  
**The Glade**  
_By Silver Dragonfire_   
Dolores Umbridge whimpered. These--these centaurs! How dare they attack a Headmistress of Hogwarts?! They were only there on her say-so, or rather the Ministry's, but she was good friends with Fudge, didn't they know--   
  
She was carried farther and farther away from those students, those traitors! Harry Potter and that Know-It-All Hermione Granger--they tricked her, they did! Now, that dreadful centaurs would do unmentionable things to her! Dirty non-humans! All they had was primal instinct; she felt sure that they would roast her over the fire and **eat** her! Oh, what was to become of her now?! And where was her wand?!   
  
The black centaur who had been carrying her dropped her brusquely. "Get up, foolish human," it snarled. "Or shall we see how well you respond to **fire**?"   
  
Dolores had little choice but to get up; she certainly did not want to be burnt, though she had no idea how these-these **creatures** would have any idea what a fire was, much less how to use one. She conveniently forgot that just a few minutes ago, she had been dreading the prospect of being roasted over a fire.   
  
"Now," the centaur continued harshly, "you will sit here, while the Council decides your fate. If you so chose to move, your guards have full clearance to tie you up...with poisonous vines." It grinned wickedly. "That would be a shame, would it not?" it added without a trace of sympathy.   
  
Dolores nodded frantically. Oh, she understood, yes she did. She'd just be a good little human and sit there, she would.   
  
The black centaur left then, barking orders to a chestnut and a dapple-grey. They saluted him, then took up post near Dolores--what was she to do now? Her chances of escape were--well, very slim. She wasn't paying much attention during the ride to the centaur camp, or wherever they were, but she felt that they must have gone a few kilometres, at least. How could she outrun these horse-bodied creatures? She hoped that someone would come and rescue her soon, after all, Potter and Granger would have to report her as missing when they showed up without her, wouldn't they?   
  
~*~   
  
Bane sighed and rubbed his eyes. Stupid, foolish humans. What had his herd done to be cursed with this utterly brainless human mare? From the Ministry of Magic, honestly. Did she think that centaurs really cared about that?!   
  
Bane straightened up as Magorian and his group of archers pounded into the clearing. Oh, good, perhaps they had gotten the human foals. He trotted a bit closer to where Magorian was talking to L'étalon.   
  
"...didn't get the human foals," Magorian was saying. "A giant showed up, of all things."   
  
"A giant?" L'étalon repeated incredulously. He swished his tail back and forth in agitation. "And, what would a giant be doing in The Forbidden Forest, pray tell?"   
  
Magorian rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Grawp. Hagrid's experiment. I told you we should've gotten rid of him a long time ago."   
  
"Oh. Him." L'étalon said flatly. "Well, perhaps you were right. But I would like to remind you that Hagrid has only lately begun to act against us. Just since Firenze."   
  
Magorian's face hardened. "**Firenze**," he spat, "is no longer part of our herd. We don't have to concern ourselves with that traitor anymore."   
  
"Perhaps," Bane interrupted smoothly, "it was a good thing that the human foals got away. It would not have looked good on our record if we kidnapped their Potter boy?"   
  
Both L'étalon and Magorian jumped. "The Potter boy?" Magorian asked. "Are you sure?"   
  
Bane nodded. "I met with him four years ago. Mars was bright that night, as it is tonight."   
  
L'étalon nodded. "Very well. He shall be allowed to escape us, then. And what of the human filly?"   
  
Bane made a dismissive gesture with his right hand. "Probably one of his friends. It matters not."   
  
Magorian spoke before L'étalon could respond. "It matters! That **girl** thought we were some sort of human **slaves** or something! She lead that fat human mare into the Forest, **hoping** that we would get rid of her for them. What kind of centaurs are we to let her get away with that?!" He pawed the ground agitatedly.   
  
L'étalon placed a restraining hand on Magorian's shoulder. "Come now, Magor, it is too late now; it is now almost certain that they are within Hogwarts. Let them go with a warning this time, and if they trespass again, then we shall take them."   
  
Magorian settled down complacently, but he still seemed disgruntled.   
  
"Now," L'étalon continued, "it is time to call the Council." He placed two fingers in his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. It had not been five minutes before six more centaurs cantered up to join them. "Everyone here? Good."   
  
L'étalon turned to face the rest of the Centaur's Council. "Tonight, a human mare has been caught in our Forest. I shall leave it to Magorian to tell the details, though I will say that this is quite serious. Magor?"   
  
Magorian started to address the Council, a grim expression on his face. "Fellow Council members, allow me to enlighten you with the particulars about the going-on's tonight. The Guard and I were making our rounds, as usual. We noticed that as we got closer to that human magic school, Hogwarts, the Forest started to get quiet, even suspiciously so. We headed in the direction of Hagrid's hut, and came upon, to our surprise, an obese human mare being led into the Forest by two human foals, both wearing the robes of the school.   
  
"If they had gone any farther into the Forest, they might have come upon one of the unicorn glades, so I had the archers fire a few warning shots, and the Guard surrounded them. I demanded that they identify themselves, and the fat human mare responded, in a rather high voice, that she was something called the 'Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts'. Then, she dared to call us **half-breeds** and insinuated that we had 'near-human intelligence'. Balderdash."   
  
The half-circle of centaurs shifted, a bit restlessly. A bay female, Lavande, spoke up. "And then?"   
  
"We managed to capture the fat human mare, but Grawp turned up, and we lost the human foals."   
  
This caused tittering amongst the Council members. "Grawp?" a chestnut, Brun, asked.   
  
"Hagrid's little 'experiment'. His half-brother who happens to be all giant," Magorian explained.   
  
"Oh. That Grawp," Brun answered, a bit sheepishly.   
  
Bane rolled his eyes at this. One would think that a Council member would be able to remember the giant in the Forest--after all, Hagrid wasn't exactly very discreet, was he? And Brun was supposed to be one of the better trackers, too.   
  
"I'm afraid we're getting away from the point," L'étalon interjected. "The Council was called to come up with a means to deal with the human mare, not the giant. Magorian has informed me that the giant's chance of...survival...is less than we might think. Even a giant cannot live through getting shot with fifty or so arrows in the face without medical attention, and I do not believe that it is likely that Grawp will receive such."   
  
"Of course, L'étalon," Diamant, a blond centaur, answered. He turned towards his fellow Council members. "Suggestions?"   
  
"I say we decapitate her and pike her head near the boundary of the Forest to warn visitors away!" a particularly enthusiastic young centaur suggested. Bois was the youngest member of the Council, and had a tendency to get carried away sometimes with his anti-human tactics.   
  
"Er...perhaps we should stay away from messy deaths," L'étalon suggested, a bit paler than he was a few minutes ago.   
  
"Perhaps it would be prudent not to harm the human physically; if she really is a Ministry of Magic worker, it would not improve our image if we showed that we would not hesitate to maim or kill one of them." It was Ronan, Bane noted, who had made this comment.   
  
"I hardly think that it will help if the humans think that we will allow visitors in our Forest whenever they please," Magorian responded heatedly.   
  
"Perhaps Ronan is simply trying to point out that there are far more human wizards than centaurs, and that they have a large arsenal of magical weapons at their disposal while we do not," Bane interjected.   
  
Magorian glanced at him, startled; it did not appear that he had thought of this. _Well_, Bane thought, _that explains some of it._ Aloud, he continued. "As centaurs, we have little innate magic. We do not teach our foals to use such, as the humans do. If word got out that we were killing random humans in what they perceive as **their** Forest, their fool of a Minister might be thoughtless enough that he would want to send Aurors after us. We have little protection against Aurors, save the fact that we can hide quite well, and none against the Killing Curse. What good would killing the one human do if the humans decide to gain revenge by exterminating the centaur herd in the Forest?"   
  
By the time that Bane concluded his little speech, most of the centaurs in the Council were a great deal greener than any centaur should be.   
  
"I understand," Magorian said with a sigh.   
  
_Good_, Bane thought, _he was smart enough to realize that it was aimed towards him. Our illustrious Captain of the Guard may be quite fit physically...but mentally...is another case entirely._   
  
"On the other hand," L'étalon said with a slight smirk, "that still leaves much that can be inflicted on the human mare. Mental torture can affect one as much as physical torture, though the effects are not nearly so obvious."   
  
"Oh, quite," Ronan agreed. "Particularly when playing with one's fears..."   
  
"I suggest the Nightmare Glade." Noir finally spoke up. The jet-black centaur was the last Council member, and the only one who usually did not participate in debates, preferring to simply listen instead.   
  
It was a while before anyone else spoke. There were definite pros to that idea, Bane decided, but also cons. The centaurs' Nightmare Glade was a small clearing in the Forest, barely ten feet in diameter, where foals were sent for punishment. There were wards around the clearing, so that no centaur could stumble upon it by mistake, and that those who were sentenced to be there could not escape. The Glade itself had been part of the Forest as long as anyone could remember, but it wasn't until after Dumbledore became Headmaster at Hogwarts that the wards were erected and the centaurs decided to use the Glade as the consequence for misbehaving or breaking a law, though the Glade was mostly used only for youngsters. The penalty for most crimes committed by a fully-grown centaur was exile, or sometimes death. Like Firenze.   
  
But he was not the subject of this Council meeting. Bane considered, again, the Nightmare Glade. For some reason, the magic of the Forest had forced the creation of the Glade. Like the name suggested, the Nightmare Glade was a clearing that forced whoever occupied it to think that they were being surrounded by their worst nightmares. It would be like being surrounded by a multitude of boggarts, with each showing perhaps not one's **greatest** fear, but a combination of fears. Bane remembered being put into the Glade as a child; he had been surrounded by, at first, his parents admonishing him, then, came the images of skies that had predicted death, chaos, and destruction, then finally, there were the humans, coming to kill and demolish his loved ones. But he was getting off track again.   
  
As far as Bane was concerned, the Nightmare Glade would be a wonderfully fitting punishment for the human mare. But there was also that question of do we centaurs really want to let the humans know that the Forest is magical? To risk the annihilation of such an old, beautiful forest would be almost criminal--and look at what the humans did when they found Avalon. Stones torn apart, then sold as mere trinkets in souvenir shops. Animals ripped from their homes, offered as pets to those cruel humans. Dare they risk that happening to their beloved Forest?   
  
It was near daybreak before the Council reached a decision.   
  
~*~   
  
"Are you sure this is wise?" Diamant grumbled. He took the butt of his spear and prodded the figure in the middle of the circle of centaurs.   
  
"Being wise doesn't necessarily get you anywhere, you know," Noir growled. She was watching the Forest around them for any surprises.   
  
"It is the will of the Council," Brun said stonily, "and so it must be done."   
  
"Of course, of course, but I simply ask about the prudence of such an action," Diamant rejoined.   
  
"Since when have you ever worried about prudence?" Lavande asked cheerfully. She took her staff and poked the figure. "Go on, don't tarry."   
  
The figure tried to shout, but the words were muffled by the gag.   
  
Lavande paused. "Did she just say 'I want cheese'?"   
  
Noir raised an elegant eyebrow.   
  
"No, probably not."   
  
A few moments of silence came before Brun brusquely announced, "We're here."   
  
"Oh, good," Lavande said with relief evident in her voice. "That means we can get to breakfast. I'm hungry. And I need to visit the privy."   
  
Noir snorted.   
  
"What? Don't tell me you don't, Noir! It would be near impossible not to, after that Council session!"   
  
"I'm not denying anything," Noir replied calmly. "Nor am I confirming anything."   
  
"Oh, do desist, won't you?" Diamant asked, almost pleadingly. "Come, help; then we can leave."   
  
"Of course, Diamant. Your wish is my command," Lavande grinned cheekily.   
  
The four centaurs formed a semicircle around their prisoner, and started to herd it towards the Glade on their right with their spears, staffs, and crossbows. "In you go, now," Lavande commanded.   
  
The figure whimpered and did as it was told. There was a brief shower of sparks as it stepped into the small clearing; then, a semi-visible shield formed around the clearing, trapping the figure inside. It turned, and tried to run out of the Glade, pulling off her gag as she did so, but the shield prevented it from doing so. The centaurs could hear faint screams, as if they were distanced from the figure by miles instead of merely feet.   
  
"Well, that's that," Lavande said with satisfaction. "You know, I'm really quite happy now."   
  
"Why is that?" Diamant asked suspiciously.   
  
"I can go graze, you dolt!"   
  
"We did not set upon a release date for our...prisoner, did we?" Noir asked softly.   
  
Lavande glanced at her quizzically. "No, why?"   
  
Noir smiled a slightly mischievous smile. "We can leave her in there for days, weeks, even, then. I'm sure the children will be quite happy about that...after all, we wouldn't want our children in the same Glade as **that** thing, now would we?"   
  
The Forest rang with the centaurs' startled laughter.   
  
~*~   
  
Dolores Umbridge was about to pee in her pants. Correction, her tailored robes.   
  
Not that she hadn't had ample chances to...relieve herself; it was just that she simply did not **like** what had happened to her. And now...it got worse.   
  
She, the Headmistress and High Inquisitor at Hogwarts and the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, had been trussed up like--like a **chicken**--and then was **herded** into this clearing. Somehow, the moment she stumbled fully inside the clearing, she was in this--this place. She was not in the Forest anymore, she felt. She was surrounded by an inky-black darkness so complete that she felt, if she were to ever escape, light would blind her.   
  
She tried to scream, but the words were swallowed up by the darkness. She tried to move, to get up and walk, but it felt like she were moving through molasses. She could not get the strength to do much more than crawl a few feet. She managed to wrap her arms around herself, a noteworthy accomplishment for one so...overly acquainted with the dinner table. She started to whine, a low, keening sound that simply disappeared into the darkness, as did everything else. Was there nothing she could do?   
  
Suddenly, the darkness started to recede. Around her, a dungeon started to form. Greyed stone walls took shape, some of them covered in mould, moss, water, and she didn't want to even **think** about what else! Torches burned dimly in sconces on the wall, casting flickering shadows upon the walls and floor.   
  
Umbridge realized that there was a door in one of the corners, of rotting wood soaked through with water. It was slowly creaking open, and she could see slivers of light outlining a cloaked figure. It seemed like forever before the door was fully open and the human-shaped cloak stepped into the room.   
  
Umbridge squeaked, and scooted back a bit. "W-who are you? I warn you, I'm very high up there in the Ministry, and anything you do to me will be duly reported!"   
  
"Really?" A voice like a knife cut through Umbridge's fear and uncertainty. The hood of the cloak gradually slipped back, making Umbridge gasp. "You'll find that I care not."   
  
The figure was revealed to be a snake-like man, with red, glowing eyes and pallid skin stretched tightly over his skull. Thin lips pulled back to reveal large, yellowing teeth. There was no nose on this spectre, only two slits to be used as nostrils. A hand reached out from the depths of the cloak, and Umbridge was horrified to note the skeleton-like quality of it, with long, brittle nails and blue veins outlined clearly.   
  
"W-who are you?" she asked again.   
  
"My name...is not one to be taken lightly," the figure said. "Are you sure you wish to hear it?"   
  
Umbridge could barely make herself nod yes.   
  
"My name..." the figure grinned, contorting his face even more, "is **Voldemort**."   
  
"No...no! You can't be, there's no way! It's a plot, a plot to hurt me! It's all Harry Potter's fault! I told him to stop telling lies! I'll have him expelled for this!"   
  
Voldemort recoiled. "Harry Potter?! He would not have enough brains or cunning to do such a thing. Let me assure you, it is not his doing. I..." he paused, "...am **quite** real."   
  
"You're not! You're just an illusion, and you'll go away if I ignore you!"   
  
Voldemort stretched his lips into another grin. "Am I? Can illusions do this? _Crucio_!"   
  
Umbridge cried out as pain struck her, engulfing her entire body in an instant. Tears dripped from small, beady eyes, as she tried to tell herself, the pain wasn't real, she was fine, and she'll have Harry Potter expelled, yes she will...   
  
She gave up on that exactly 27 seconds later, and simply cried for her mother.   
  
~*~   
  
"You know, I must admit to some curiosity." Lavande spoke as she picked a lily.   
  
"Upon what?" Magorian asked. They were **supposed** to be searching for beehives, for honey, but got sidetracked...again.   
  
"To what happened to that fat human mare."   
  
"We--or you, I suppose--put her into the Nightmare Glade."   
  
"Well, then I guess I wonder about exactly what the Glade is inflicting upon her."   
  
Magorian rolled his eyes. "Don't bother; she's only a human. Don't tell me you're feeling sorry for her."   
  
"No, it's not that, it's just that I want to know."   
  
"It's probably just something like a Dementor, or Voldemort. Nothing big. It's not even as if it's real. It's all her imagination anyway."   
  
"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know. We should go up to the castle sometime, and get more acquainted with the students. They can't be all bad."   
  
"That's treason!"   
  
"Oh, for the heavens' sake, Magor, don't be such a prude! Don't you want to learn about humans more?"   
  
"No," Magorian replied firmly. "They all think we're less than them, anyway. What good would it do?"   
  
"Well, it might be fun!"   
  
Magor rolled his eyes. "Lavande, perhaps it would be best if we forgot about 'fun' for a while now. The elders would never believe us if we told them we couldn't find any beehives. They only sent us out because we have the sharpest eyes in the herd."   
  
Lavande gave a dramatic sigh. "Oh, all right! As you command, captain!" She mockingly saluted Magor.   
  
Thoughts of fat, human mares soon drifted far from their minds as they frolicked in the warm sunshine, and enjoyed the nice weather.   
  
~*~   
  
It had been a week since the last Council meeting. Bane was quite glad of that, as he was not at **all** fond of them. So it was with great reluctance that he galloped towards the centre of the centaur-inhabited portion of the Forest when L'étalon's whistle shrieked though the trees. Being the farthest from the clearing designated as that of the Council, he cantered into the glade last, though it was only a few seconds after Brun.   
  
After a moment to catch his breath, Bane was amazed to see Albus Dumbledore in the glade, chatting animatedly with Lavande. Magor edged closer to him. "What is that human doing here?" Magorian asked heatedly. "He was probably the one who prodded the human foals into bringing the fat human mare here."   
  
Bane carefully looked at Dumbledore before he spoke, noting the greying hair and wearied stance. "Do you think, Magor, that it was really him who would do such a thing?"   
  
Magor looked uncertain for a moment. "Well, who else?"   
  
"Perhaps the human mare brought it upon herself," Bane suggested.   
  
Dumbledore spoke up before Magor could respond. "Excuse me! Would you all mind listening to me for a few minutes?"   
  
Somewhat grudgingly, the centaurs quieted down to listen to Dumbledore's words.   
  
"Thank you. I have heard stories that all is not happy at Hogwarts, and learned what happened from Miss Granger and Mr. Potter. Please allow me to explain what has happened this past year, first.   
  
"As the stars have probably told you, Voldemort returned at the end of the last school year, but the Ministry did not believe the tales of his resurrection. Believing that I was attempting to usurp him, Cornelius Fudge made an effort to control Hogwarts, first by a 'High Inquisitor', then by all sorts of Educational decrees. His puppet, Dolores Umbridge, uncovered a secret student organization that called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army'. I must say, I was flattered, but it caused me to be removed from my position as Headmaster. Professor Umbridge became the new Headmistress, and wreaked general havoc upon the student body.   
  
"Mr. Potter told me that when Miss Granger decided to take Professor Umbridge out into the Forest, in hopes that you would get rid of her for them, she had been about to use the Cruciatus curse on Mr. Potter, in her zeal to uncover what 'treason' she could."   
  
Several of the Council members gasped at the word 'Cruciatus'. "Isn't that...illegal?" Lavande asked hesitantly.   
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes. And, so, I hope you could forgive Mr. Potter and Miss Granger for their actions?"   
  
L'étalon looked around the circle of centaurs before nodding. "Yes. But that Umbridge creature is quite the different matter."   
  
"I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to release her, L'étalon. She simply got carried away in her fanaticism and adoration for Minister Fudge, I'm afraid."   
  
"She told me that we centaurs have 'near-human intelligence'!" Magorian burst out. He darkened slightly as every eye in the Council turned to him. "Well, it's an insult to us! Our intelligence is far higher than **hers**, if that's what she's thinking!"   
  
"I understand, Magor," Dumbledore replied with a glimmer of humour in his eye. "There are times that I felt I could have strangled her myself. But I'm afraid Fudge is getting rather insistent that he have his Senior Undersecretary back. Something about Voldemort, I'm sure. Or perhaps it is simply that it would look quite bad on his record if there was another mysterious disappearance."   
  
"Probably the latter," L'étalon said decidedly. He looked to his fellow Council members again. "Well?"   
  
One by one, the Councillors nodded, though both Noir and Magorian looked quite against the very idea.   
  
"Very well, then, Dumbledore. You may take her, if you so wish."   
  
"Thank you. May I ask where she is being held?"   
  
"The Nightmare Glade."   
  
Bane could see a definite twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he nodded courteously to each Councillor. "Thank you again. I hope to see you soon."   
  
As Bane nodded back, he could not help but feel some respect for this man who would save one who he did not like in the name of a man he did not think highly of. Bane was quite certain that he would not have done the same.   
  
**~OWARI**   
  


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**Author's Notes**: I don't know if it was really clear exactly **why** the Centaur Council gave Umbridge back to Dumbledore, so I'll try to explain it here:   
  
The way I envisioned it, Dumbledore is one of the few humans that the centaur can actually respect. Centaurs are not exactly common, so they treasure their foals the most. Dumbledore takes upon his shoulders the job of taking care of human 'foals', so they admire him for that. Then, he's a powerful wizard in his own right, so there's that, too. And, Dumbledore constantly allows his students into the Forest, though with Hagrid, knowing that there are dangers. But he trust not only Hagrid, but the centaurs, too, with his students' lives, showing that **he** also respects **them**. That would be valuable to the centaurs--the trust of one of the more influential wizards, while most of the wizarding world thinks lowly of them. And so the deference to Dumbledore that they show here.   
  
Sorry about the overload of French-words-used-as-names. The definitions, for those French-impaired (like me, strangely enough):   
  
L'étalon = Stallion  
Lavande = Lavender  
Brun = Brown  
Diamant = Diamond  
Bois = Wood  
Noir = Black   
  
*blinks* O.o;; Um, I didn't mean to put Lavender Brown's name in there. Hm, strange coincidence...   
  
Originally, this was meant to be a short, light fic on what happened to Umbridge when the centaurs took her. But...it progressed to become what you've just read (I assume). Feedback would be much appreciated, if you don't mind. I'd especially like to know how this made you feel (gods, I feel like a psychiatrist), if you feel any kinder towards Umbridge or not. This may be rewritten sometime in the forseeable future, if I so please. Review, please? 


End file.
